


Crowley's Archnemesis

by Zeckarin



Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [22]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adam Young Still Has Powers (Good Omens), Crowley's Archnemesis, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Protective Crowley, Queerplatonic Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Sentient Bentley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22674643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeckarin/pseuds/Zeckarin
Summary: There is one being Crowley hates more than anyone.Demons are good at holding grudges...
Relationships: Aziraphale & Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Madame Tracy (Good Omens), Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens), Crowley & Sergeant Shadwell (Good Omens), The Bentley & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1523585
Comments: 26
Kudos: 144





	Crowley's Archnemesis

**Author's Note:**

> February's ficlets #11  
> Today's prompt is : "I wish you had told me that before."
> 
> I've wanted to write this for a long time !

“So, blueberry or apple ?”

Crowley, bent over a map of London sewer system, looked up in confusion at the angel reorganizing the back room's bookshelf.

“Uh ?” asked the demon.

“The pie. Blueberry or apple ? What do you think, my dear ?”

“Pie ? Whot pie ?”

“Really, Crowley,” chided the angel fondly. “I know this business with your crocodile is taking a lot of time and energy, but I wish you paid a little more attention when I inform you of the coming of guests.”

“Guests ? Today ?” asked a very startled demon.

“Why yes, of course. For tea. So, what do you think she would favour ? Blueberry or apple ?”

Crowley’s face lighted up.

“Is Book Girl coming ?” If Newt’s with her, I could bring him to the airport. He’ll love shutting down the control tower !”

“Anathema was here only yesterday, my dear. No, our guest is our other human lady friend.”

Crowley froze, his hand suddenly clutching the map so hard it started to tear.

“Madam Trasssy ?” he hissed, his eyes completely yellow.

“Yes, of course Madam Tracy, who else ?”

“I wish you had told me _that_ before !” snarled the demon.

“But… I did. I told you yesterday, Crowley,” said the angel, frowning slightly, one hand frozen mid-air in the re-shelving of a book.

“You did _not_ ! I would have remembered it !”

“Well maybe you were too busy playing that cupcake game on your phone again,” suggested Aziraphale sweetly.

“I’m _never_ busy enough not to notice _that_ kind of information ! You’re a liar ! A lying liar angel who lies !” yelled Crowley, heading to the door with rage.

“Crowley, where are you going ?”

“ _Out_ ! I’m pissed off ! I need to storm out and slam the door !”

“Oh, very well, then. Could you bring me back a baguette from that little French boulangerie down the street, my dear ?” asked Aziraphale, placing another book on the shelf.

A loud _bang_ answered his question, the doorbell fell to the floor, and the angel tutted and snapped his fingers to put it back.

Crowley sat at the Bentley’s wheel, cursing under his breath, and pulled out at a demonic speed.

“I can’t _believe_ it ! He _knows_ I need at least half a day to craft a good storm ! I’m not a bloody Upper Demon !”

The Bentley lighted on her right indicator before turning left, earning concerto of horns that warmed the demon’s heart. He patted the wheel, relaxing slightly.

“The angel’s mean, Love”, he explained to her. “He didn’t tell me sergeant freakin’ Shadwell was coming today.”

The Bentley roared so loud a woman crossing the street startled and broke her heel.

“I _know_ , right ? I’ll find something, don’t sweat !”

Crowley was racking his mind, leaving the driving to his car. He only needed the speed to help him think. So Tracy and Shadwell would be there in four hours. It was too short for him to do his usual miracle.

He knew why Aziraphale hadn’t told him about the sergeant’s coming. And he knew _why_ , of course. It had all started the night after Armageddon, at his apartment, when the angel finally had been able to tell him how he’d ended discorporating.

Shadwell. Sergeant fucking Shadwell, that’s how.

Demons can hold grudges like no one else, and if Crowley could be a very lousy demon on some points, he was an excellent one on that precise one.

Discorporation was painful, it was like dying in an extremely awful way, but with a very clear mind to appreciate it. And Aziraphale’s discorporation had been one of the worst, his body exploding in a multidimensional portal.

That alone was enough to earn a life long grudge. Then there was the _bookshop_.

Crowley liked the bookshop. It was welcoming, and warm, and Home, and strongly protective of Aziraphale.

Exploding his angel and burning his home. If not for Madam Tracy, Shadwell would be rotting in Hell.

But they owed Tracy. And Aziraphale liked her. Okay, Crowley didn’t hate her either, but he could have done without her awful taste in men.

Only a few hours. What could he _do_ ?

The Bentley took another turn, and Crowley’s mind stopped reeling as he took in their surroundings.

“That’s Tadfield’s road” he realised out loud.

The Bentley didn’t answer. There was no need.

Crowley beamed. “You _clever girl_ !”

* * *

Adam noticed a demonic miracle while eating his potatoes. His fork stopped mid air for a second, and his mother smiled at him.

He smiled back, reaching out with his spirit to search his bedroom. It had come from his closet.

The Antichrist wasn’t exactly worried. No demon could harm him or his family, he knew that. He was stronger on earth than any demon, his “father” included. And as expected, the lingering aura in his closet was Crowley’s.

Adam noded, and started eating again. He wondered why his uncle had just turned all his clothes one size too small, but he was certain the explanation would be very entertaining.

* * *

“I am so sorry to ask you that at the last minute… are you certain it is all right ? I would have taken him myself, but Arthur is in Cambridge for work today, so I don’t have the car...”

“It’s all right, Deirdre. I’m happy to help. And Aziraphale will be delighted to see him. I’ll bring him back tomorrow for school.”

Adam’s mother smiled with relief.

“We are so lucky you were visiting Miss Device today ! Adam didn’t even tell me ! I didn’t realise he’d grown up so much, and I just can’t send him to school like this.”

“I grew three inches in a week. At least,” declared Adam proudly, pointing at his trousers, which showed almost _one_ inch of ankle.

“It’s no bother to me. We will have fun hunting for clothes, right Adam ?”

“Oh, yes ! We will have lots of fun ! Don’t worry, mum”.

* * *

“Soooo… why are we going to London, uncle Crowley ?” asked Adam, closing the glove compartment, Dog curled at his feet.

“I need your Antichrist’s powers, kid.”

“That’s not really nice, using me to do your work. I’m pretty sure it’s forbidden by law, you know,” teased the child as the compartment opened again on its own volition. He closed it with a smile.

“It’s important, Adam. Really important. You’re the only one who can do it, I don’t have enough time !”

Adam frowned.

“Is uncle Aziraphale ok ?”

“What ? Oh, yes. Yes, he’s fine. But it’s kind of about him.”

Very slowly, the compartment started opening again. Adam eyed it like a cat preparing to bounce on its prey.

“Oh, come _on_ , you two ! Stop playing ! This is a serious conversation !”

The Bentley rumbled an apology.

“Sorry, uncle Crowley. What do you want me to do ?”

“First of all, what do you know about the fire at the bookshop ?”

“Uncle Aziraphale discorporated and then the bookshop burned. Is there a problem ? Did I forget to bring something back ?”

“What ? No, no it’s perfect. So you don’t know how Aziraphale ended in that summoning circle ?”

“I didn’t have time to see it all… you two have a lot of memories, you know. I was only trying to see if you were good or bad.”

“I’m warning you, Adam Young, if you intend to say you saw me as _good_ , I’m disinheriting you.”

“I’ll _never_ say that !”

“Good. Oh, and Girl ?” asked the demon to his car, “We are stopping at the French boulangerie first.”

Then he turned back to his Godson as the Bentley took the wheel.

“Okay, let me explain what happened _exactly_ that day.”

* * *

Madam Tracy knocked at exactly four o’clock. The storm started as they were all eating pie (blueberry) in the back room.

“Oh, my !” gasped the woman as thunder echoed loudly. “What a dreadful weather !”

“Yes. This is a very stormy year,” declared Aziraphale, sending a look that promised retribution in Crowley’s direction.

“Poor Mister Shadwell will be soaked to the bones again. I really wish he wasn’t that stubborn and could wait in that little café around the corner.”

Adam polished his plate and smiled politely.

“Can I go play, uncle Z ?”

The angel chuckled.

“Yes, my dear, you can. But wash your hands first, please. And your face !”

“Will do !” promised the child, running to the stairs, Dog barking excitedly on his heels.”

“Well, I… I will make some...” started Crowley, getting up.

“Tea ?” provided Aziraphale in a chilling tone, staring pointedly at their steaming mugs.

“Yes. Tea. Tea, that’s it. Back in a minute.”

Madam Tracy smiled as the demon exited, and tilted her head knowingly as she looked at the angel.

“He is such a dear. Don’t be too hard on him, Mister Aziraphale.”

“I know. I just wish he wouldn’t make it rain every time. Forbidding Mr Shadwell to come in is already enough, in my opinion. Do you know Crowley put wards against him in the _ceiling_ ? Like the man could climb the walls like that Spider human on television. No, the rain is a little too much. sergeant Shadwell is not that young any more.”

“Oh, pish posh ! That man is too obstinate to catch cold. Plus, he really should wait in that café. Or let me come here on my own. You are not about to eat me, after all. He still calls you _the southern pansy_ , you know. Even if he knows who you _are_.”

“I think his desire to protect you is endearing,” said Aziraphale, sipping his tea.

“Really ?” asked the woman teasingly. “Do you think I need protection ?”

Aziraphale’s only answer was a chuckle.

Thunder cracked again, and the bookshelves shook.

“I have to say, Mr Crowley outdid himself this time. This is quite a storm,” mused Madam Tracy, holding her plate for the angel to serve her another slice.

Aziraphale hid an amused smile.

“He had help today,” he answered, eyes twinkling.

Crowley and Adam were standing side by side solemnly, looking out the kitchen’s window.

“You could have make it rain without me,” stated the child.

“Oh, yes, _right_ !” answered the demon with heavy sarcasm. “I _could_ have make it rain, _of course_ , but I need time to craft a good storm, and Shadwell is used to very good ones by now. Don’t want him to thing I’m _slipping_.”

“He should have taken an umbrella,” declared Adam seriously.

“Nah. Too proud for that. An umbrella would be acknowledging his defeat.”

A bright lighting illuminated the suddenly dark sky. The soaked figure on the other side of the street startled. Adam grinned.

“That’s a very impressive work, kid. Remind me to buy you an ice cream next time I’m visiting.”

“Ice cream for all the Them,” demanded Adam, still looking at Shadwell.

“Adam, how many time do I have to tell you that bargaining has to be done _before_ paying ? You already created the bloody storm !”

“So, no ice cream ? Is that what you’re saying ? If you don’t pay us, it’s war, you know.”

“Aw, as much as I would love to battle against the gang, I have to decline. The angel is already not happy with me, and if I’m withholding ice cream from his favourite kids he’ll definitely have my head.”

“three scoops each,” requested the Antichrist.

“Don’t push your luck. Two.”

“Deal.”

Adam directed his attention on sergeant Shadwell again. He pondered, then nodded, and hail started to fall.

He was rather displeased with the man. He liked his uncle Aziraphale an awful lot.

He would have done it for free.

**Author's Note:**

> The burning bookshop has traumatised our poor demon...
> 
> And if you are wondering : yes, Crowley let lose a crocodile in London sewer. He likes creating urban legends ^^


End file.
